When History Repeats Itself
by justwriteit1
Summary: "Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Murdered, Survived" - What if Edward had married the Infanta Isabel of Austria (OC) at age 13? What if he had the same desire for a son that his father had? And what if he was just as lust driven? This story explains the tale of the Seven Wives of Edward VI.
1. Part One - The Infanta

Summary: "Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Murdered, Survived" - What if Edward had married the Infanta Isabel of Austria (OC) at age 13? What if he had the same desire for a son that his father had? And what if he was just as lust driven? This story explains the tale of the Seven Wives of Edward VI.

Each wife will have a few chapters dedicated to them. Though for some of the wives their downfall and the meeting of the next wife will be explained in the current wife's chapters, make sense? They will be titled Part ? - {the name of the Chapter} in the Chapter Filterer. The wives will be quite similar to Henry VIII's wives. And the rhyme will be - "Divorced, Beheaded, Died, Divorced, Beheaded, Murdered, Survived."

Please review!

Part One - The Spanish Queen

Chapter One

The Infanta

Infanta Isabel de Espana was a privileged girl. Well, of course she was, she was a Princess of Spain and Archduchess of Austria. Her father was the most powerful man in Europe, and possibly the world! She grew up mostly between Toledo and Valladolid with her other siblings. They built a strong family bond despite their father's regular absences.

Isabel had two sisters, Maria and Juana, and one brother, Felipe.

Isabel was to marry the King of England, Edward. He was her age, though she was two months older. She had reached womanhood, as she had bled a year before. Her father took this as a sign that she was ready for marriage. Her second eldest sister, Juana, hadn't even been married yet, though she was betrothed to the Crown Prince of Portugal

Isabel had been betrothed to King Edward since she was eight months old, though the betrothal had been broken when she was six, it had been resumed two months before Edward's tyrannical father's, King Henry's, death. The man had executed two of his wives for adultery and castes two aside because they either didn't give him a son or wasn't good-looking, which was hypocritical from what her duenna, Señora Rodríguez, had said of the English tyrant. Señora Rodríguez relied mostly on gossip though.

She was to sail for England in a week. With her she would bring Señora Rodríguez and Margarita Jiménez and Teresa Sánchez, her childhood companions, and Catalina Pérez, Ana Hernández, Luisa de Aguilar, Teresa Caballero, Maria de Léon and Catalina and Elvira de Espinosa, were her ladies-in-waiting chosen by her father. Señor Francisco Gómez was to give her away. He was her father's friend, not too good at politics though, but he was his childhood friend, and the only man he could trust with his youngest daughter.

She didn't want to go to England, according to both Juana and Señora Rodríguez it was a heretical county, governed by Anglicans, Protestant and those who keep their belief in the true faith hidden. Her husband would be a heretic, and she would have to pretend to be one, or risk having a fate similar to the previous king's second and fifth wives.

Her father had assured her that if the dead tyrant's son tried to hurt her, he would go to England with a fleet of ships and kill every last Englishman until he reached the young king, then he decapitate him.

The week went by quickly, and soon enough it was time to leave.

"Your highness," said Ana Hernandez, "The ship is ready to go."

Isabel nodded, looking out the window, seeing the country she'd grew up in. Wondering whether or not she'll ever see it again. "Thank you, Señora Hernandez."

Two months later

"Your highness, the French Hood is very in fashion here in England. It might do you well if you were to wear it," Señora Rodriguez told a frantic Isabel.

They had arrived in England the night before. The king had asked for a public audience to celebrate the future queen's arrival.

Isabel wanted to look her very best for her husband-to-be. She was sure Señora Rodriguez was getting annoyed by her, but she wasn't too bothered by it. Her duenna must've understood the worry she felt! She was frantic!

"But, Señora, I am Castilian, am I not? Is my father not the King of Castile of Aragon and the Holy Roman Emperor?" Isabel insisted. She was a proud Spaniard, and she wouldn't be persuaded to dress in a way that was not in style in Castile, Aragon or the Holy Roman Empire. "I could wear a Gable Hood, or my snood..."

"Your highness, the Lady -"

"- Princess," Isabel interrupted.

"- Princess - Mary is a proud Spaniard like her mother and she still wears the French Hood," Señora Rodriguez replied as she brushed the young Infanta's head of brown curls.

"She is more English than Spanish, Señora. She was raised in England, though her mother had considerable influence in her upbringing," Isabel said, staring at her dressing table's mirror. "She's as Catholic as any Spaniard, but she is not a full Spaniard."

The Señora sighed. "My lady, the Gable Hood may indicate you have lost your maidenhood."

"So would the French Hood," Isabel pointed out.

"I suppose," the duenna said thoughtfully. "The snood is not as in fashion as it use to be."

Isabel put her hand up in the air, indicating for the duenna to stop brushing her hair. "I shall wear it bare then."

"It is rarely done, your highness," she said.

"Then I should be the first," Isabel retorted defiantly.

Señora Rodriguez shook her head in disapproval. "You could wear your cloak, your Spanish one."

"I have many Spanish cloaks."

"The flowery one, your highness. It has a hood," she explained.

"Yes," Isabel agreed. "That should do."

#1#

"Isabel, Archduchess of Austria, Infanta of Castile and Aragon, Princess of Flanders and Burgundy."

Edward, King of England watched as his young bride entered the main hall. Her dress was purple, the colour of royalty, and was rimmed with pearls on each sleeve, the bottom, and the square-shaped neckline.

Her rose coloured farthingale showed from under her gown. Her hair was covered by a stiff, floral patterned cloak, obviously from Spain. The cloak left the front of the Infanta's hair brown hair seen. The cloak was also her train.

She walked with modesty and integrity, Edward noted. She looked forward, practically ignoring the whispers of his fellow courtiers. Her hands were clasped and were rested on her stomach.

As she reached his throne, he stood up. She was about the same height as him, though a bit smaller.

"Your majesty," she greeted as she curtsied to him, her eyes firmly on the ground.

Edward lifted her up gently by her shoulders. He stared at her and she stared at him. He found himself lost in her hazel eyes. He saw his reflection in them.

"Princess Isabel," he said, "welcome to my court."


	2. Part One - Love and Betrayal

Kittenallie: Thanks for the review! And don't worry, it isn't going to mimic his wives that much. The personality of the later queens will be different to Henry VIII's queens, though there will be some similarities. Edward's going to be like Henry - father like son. But I'm going to work really hard so that its not too similar to history. Again, thanks for the review!

Part One - The Spanish Queen

Chapter Two

Love and Betrayal

1550

Isabel, now Queen Isabel, found herself pacing frantically up and down her bedroom.

"Infanta, calm down!" Señora Rodriquez urged. "He is not going to kill you!"

Isabel stopped. She was only in her nightgown, awaiting the arrival of the king to consummate their marriage. "From what Maria said in her letters, it seems it will not be far off!"

Maria, her eldest sister, had written to her two weeks after she had been wed. She told her how painful the consummation process was for her, especially since her husband was a virgin and didn't know what to do. And since the king was only thirteen, she had no doubt that he never laid with a woman.

"It shouldn't be too painful," the duenna insisted.

"How would you know?" she asked as she resumed her pacing. "You've never been married!" she stopped suddenly. "Have you lain with a man out of wedlock, duenna?"

"No!" Señora Rodriquez said quickly. "Of course not. I'd be an awful hypocrite if I did, always telling young ladies to save their virtue for marriage."

Isabel nodded. "It's just, from what I heard from my mother, it hurts a little, but then it becomes enjoyable," the señora told her.

"Why must women be the ones who suffer all the pain? The pains of childbirth, the pains of bleeding, the pains of lying with a man for the first time? It is not fair!"

"It is not fair, infanta, but -"

"Your majesty," said Margarita Jimenez, after bursting through the door, "the king is here."

Isabel nodded stiffly, too scared to say anything. She had known this man - this king - for two weeks, and now she was expected to lie with him?

"Go," her duenna ushered.

Isabel nodded once again. She went into the main chambers, her ladies and her duenna following her. She dismissed them all.

It was just her and her husband now. She curtsied to him and he bowed. Both didn't want to do this, both were children forced to act like adults. They were forced to lie together, to conceive an heir. Edward didn't want to penetrate her, he didn't want to get her with child while she was so young. But yet, he had to. Or else Northumberland would he on his case.

Edward swallowed. "Should we go to the bedroom?"

Isabel rose from her curtsy. "Yes, your majesty," she choked out.

"You may call me Edward if I may call you Isabel," Edward said.

"Yes, Y- Edward," she replied, seeming more at ease.

"Perhaps we should go into the bedroom."

Isabel nodded stiffly, terrified of the night ahead.

After lying with Edward, and after him making a few painful mistakes, she promised herself she'd never lie with anyone again.

#2#

1553

Of course, she didn't keep that promise, and after three years of marriage, she found herself with child for the second time. The first time ended with a miscarried boy, conceived three months after the marriage and had died after three months of pregnancy.

The queen was now four months pregnant, and Edward prayed everyday for a healthy male heir. The Tudor dynasty was not yet fully established, and a female couldn't rule in England, Empress Matilda had shown them all that!

Most of her Spanish ladies had been sent back to Spain, save her duenna, Catalina Perez and Luisa de Aguilar, on orders from Northumberland, the king's former Lord Protector and now Lord Chancellor.

Her trusted Spanish ladies had been replaced by English ladies, some of who Señora Rodriguez had suspected were spies.

Isabel only trusted her three Spanish ladies. The English were too ambitious and cunning for Isabel. The only Englishmen and Englishwomen she would trust was her husband and their future children together. She prayed that they would have many children together, especially many sons. Daughters, though, would be good for political matches. She hoped that if they had daughters one of them would be married to the King of Spain. She didn't like the French, like most Spaniards. She thought them conniving, vain and selfish, especially the new king, King Henry. Before she came to England, she had often heard the guards speaking of how rude and vain he was, and Señora Rodriquez complained about him many times. Señora Rodriquez was a proud Spaniard, albeit less so than Isabel. Both had been raised to hate the French on principle.

There had been rumours around court that the king had begun an affair with Katherine Brydges, one of her ladies and a Baron's daughter. Isabel had dismissed the rumour, she couldn't believe that Edward would conduct an affair with another woman, especially one of her ladies! Señora Rodriquez had tried to explain to her that even the most virtuous of kings sometimes have mistresses, but Isabel wouldn't have it. Even though she was with child, he wasn't a lust driven beast! His father was, yes, but Edward was nothing like his father!

Isabel soon realised that she wasn't trying to convince Señora Rodriquez, she was trying to convince herself.

"Even the most virtuous of king's take mistresses," Señora Rodriquez had told her. "Especially when their wives are with child."

The Señora's words echoed through her head. She was right, she realised. Though she wasn't going to listen to rumours, especially court rumours. She took into account that he might have taken Katherine Brydges as a lover. And he probably would have mistresses in the future, she just had to deal with it.

#2

1554

And that she did.

Katherine Brydges was taken out of her household and given one of her own. Edward was besotted with her, he went to her chambers every night.

"Edward," Katherine said, her voice trembling. The king had insisted she called him Edward in private. "What... What if I become with child?"

"Then I give him or her a household of his own in the countryside, or I have him or her raised in the royal nursery," Edward replied. He had obviously thought of what he was to do if he had illegitimate children, whether with Katherine or another woman. God knows how difficult life was for women with bastard children that weren't recognised, even if those bastards were the children of a king. He wouldn't have that happening to any woman, especially not his Katherine.

Katherine seemed very relived. Edward smiled at her and pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around him and he scooped her up from the ground.

He carried her into the bedroom where he practically through her onto the bed. He kissed her passionately and removed her dressing gown. He sucked her breasts fondly. Katherine moaned in delight. She took off his bed wear and wrapped her legs around his bare bottom.

Edward grabbed his member and thrust it into her gently before going in faster and faster. Katherine moaned in delight. Edward smirked as he heard her scream his name. When he laid with Isabel it was strictly duty, she was a lovely lady, of course, and a suitable queen, but there was no passion or love there, while with his Katherine he had both.

They went on for hours before finally getting into bed, panting wildly.

#2#

1554

Katherine Brydges position became more stable as the months went on, and five months later, in June, she was granted the title Maîtresse-en-titre. Her household had had increased in numbers, and she was no longer obliged to curtsy to the queen. She had received the informal title of the King's concubine by courtiers.

The Queen, now nine months pregnant and in confinement, had become quite upset by the news, though her household of seventy was still double the amount of Katherine's. She had hid her feelings well, but it was mostly due to the child.

Isabel felt a liquid trickle down her leg. She began to squeal and panic.

"Majesty, what is the problem?" her duenna asked.

"I think the child is coming," she answered as calm as she could muster.

#2#

"It was a girl," the physician explained to Edward. "Born dead. Fully grown."

Edward nodded grimly. At least it was just a girl, not a boy. Isabel would scold him like a child if he said it to her. 'They are all God's children!' she'd say in that annoying Spanish accent of hers.

What good was she? Yes, she was good company, but so was his darling Katherine! And she proved herself a good lover as well! Isabel was just a blockage to his dreams. His dreams of marrying Katherine. He wanted to make a modest woman of her. He had taken her womanhood! Her greatest dowry! He couldn't give it back now. She would die unmarried and the mother of his bastards. He wished he could marry her, and let her be the mother of his heirs.

Isabel hadn't even given him a living child! He wished he had met Katherine before he agreed to marry Isabel.

"Thank you, sir," Edward said. "How is the Queen?" oh how he wished those words could be used to refer to Katherine.

"She is well," the physician replied.

He nodded. The physician, seeing nothing else was needed to be said, bowed and left the king to his thoughts.

'Where was Katherine?' Edward found himself wondering. 'Probably in her chambers. I should visit her.'

He knew his wife would want him to visit her, but he was not up to it. He wanted to see Katherine! His beautiful Katherine!

Edward almost ran to Katherine's chambers. One of Katherine's ladies announced him.

"Edward!" she greeted joyfully once everyone left the room, a smile gracing her perfect lips. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Edward smacked his lips hungrily on hers. He didn't plan to make love when he ran to her chambers, but he was very glad he did.

#2#

"Where is the king?" Isabel asked her duenna.

Señora Rodriquez shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Why must she be the one to tell her the heart wrenching news.

"Señora..." Isabel warned.

The duenna sighed. "He is with the Lady Katherine Brydges." She almost slapped herself after calling that woman a 'lady'.

Isabel felt herself go red with anger. "Does he not see it fit to be with his wife at her time of need?"

The señora stayed quiet. "Does he think I wanted to bare a dead child? Does he not care how I feel?"

"Your majesty..." Señora Rodriquez warned.

"No! He thinks that I had choice! I did not want this to happen!"

"Of course you didn't," Rodriquez agreed.

"But yet he blames me!" the queen's voice was cracking and her usually composed posture was shaking. "I want to go home, Señora. To Castile. I want to play with Felipe and Maria and Juana, I want to have freedom! I want a husband who respects me and loves me and comforts me! And who cares about how I feel!"

Señora Rodriquez did something that shocked everyone in the room, even herself, she held the queen in her arms as she sobbed into her shoulder.

"There, there, princess," she cooed, using the queen's former title while rubbing her back affectionately. "It will be alright. It will all be okay."

Señora Rodriquez just prayed she was right.

#2#

1557

Oh how Edward hated sleeping with Isabel. It wasn't that she was bad, she was average and he had some pleasure. It was because he felt guilty.

He felt like he was betraying Katherine. It was odd. He felt like he was betraying his mistress by sleeping with his wife.

It had been three years since the queen had conceived, and Edward was rejoicing that he had managed to get her with child again. He took measures with Katherine to make sure she hadn't become with child, and it seemed they were working.

The queen was six months with child, she was confined to her rooms on her own orders. She wanted this child to be healthy, to prove to everyone she was capable of baring children.

Edward had been spending more and more time with his mistress. She had taken the place of queen in celebrations, and even sat on the queen's throne!

Many had been appalled to see the little whore's smug face. She had been a young girl of thirteen when she met the king. He was four years her elder. And here she was, three years later and undisputed. She didn't love Edward, she loved the king. She loved all the gifts he gave her, of course! Her dresses rivalled the queens! As did her jewels. Her father said she was queen in all but name! She didn't even need to be charming or intriguing or anything at all! She just had to look pretty and he was taken with her!

She didn't want to have children, they would ruin her body, wouldn't they? She wouldn't be as attractive as she was, and Edward would lose interest in her.

Edward looked sideways. He pictured her with a crown on her head and found himself smiling.

Katherine felt Edward's eyes on her. She turned her head and gazed into his eyes, faking passion. Edward leaned forward and kissed her.

When they pulled back, Katherine sat upright in her seat, watching the courtiers mingle.

She had another lover. Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk. They kept the affair a secret, of course. If it got out both of them would be sent away.

Katherine was the newest rising star, but any slip up could easily tear her down.

#2#

1557

"So she sat on my throne," Isabel repeated to the Lady Jane Howard, who had been apart of the court festivities of the previous night.

"Yes, your majesty," said the girl, two years her elder. "The little harlot looked very smug on it. Not at all proper in the presence of the king."

She had taken a liking to the girl. She was a nice Englishwoman, which was very rare. She obviously had received a good education, for she was very learned. "Was he... gazing at her."

"Yes, your majesty," Jane had been taught to never lie, even little white lies. The Queen should know of her rival. And Jane was a horrible gossip as well. "His majesty seemed quite besotted with her. She didn't seem as much, though I suppose she wouldn't be. Likes the power, I suppose. Mistresses love power."

Isabel was taken aback by the girl's bluntness, though she was happy to have someone who said it like it was. "Indeed."

"I doubt she's faithful to him, my lady. I say she has a few lovers. She doesn't seem the wisest," Jane went on.

Isabel nodded. "I would think so. What wise woman would give themselves to a man out of wedlock?"

"Whores," Jane answered. The Queen looked at her questioningly. "Oh, sorry milady, please excuse my bluntness."

Isabel smiled at her. "No, I quite like your bluntness actually. Though I've never seen a lady so daring."

"My aunt, Aunt Mary, Dowager Duchess of Richmond and Somerset, says I'm too blunt for my own good. That it'll get me into trouble someday. Though I've always liked my bluntness, I'd rather be blunt than lie. Lying is a sin against God, while bluntness is not," Jane told her mistress.

"You reason well," Isabel noted, smiling brightly.

"Thank you, your majesty," Jane replied. "If your majesty would allow me to gossip."

"Oh, please tell," she beckoned.

"Well," Jane began. "My brother told me not to tell anyone, but... The king is said to have had a falling out with his whore."

"Really?" Isabel asked hopefully, smiling widely.

Jane nodded. "My brother told me last night, I didn't want to tell, as I had promised, but I couldn't control myself."

"Your secret is safe with me," Isabel said, unable to keep the smile off her face.


	3. Part One - God is Fair and Just

Part One - The Spanish Queen

Chapter One

God is Fair and Just

January 1558

Isabel screams rang through the palace's halls as courtiers awaited the birth of their new prince or princess.

Isabel pushed with a fervour unbeknownst to her. The labour had went on for a full day. Isabel was worn out. She hadn't slept nor eat. The midwives were rushing in and out and tee ladies were scurrying about, getting blankets and water for their mistress.

Isabel closed her eyes, blinking away tears. Lady Jane Howard wiped sweat from her forehead and gave her an encouraging smile. She felt herself smiling back at the girl before feeling another shock of pain.

She screamed once again. The child didn't seem to want to come out.

Isabel pushed. She didn't care about the child's gender, she wanted it to be healthy! Though, she knew a son would please Edward.

"One more push!" the midwife urged her.

Isabel obeyed. And soon, she heard a youthful cry.

She laughed joyfully, as did all the other ladies in the room.

"What is it?" Lady Jane Howard asked.

"A girl," the midwife answered. "A healthy girl."

#3#

"A girl? Is she healthy?"

"Yes," Barnaby told him.

Edward nodded. "At least she's proven herself capable of baring healthy children."

"Yes."

Edward's face suddenly broke into a large grin. "I'm a father, Barnaby, a father!"

The grin was contagious and Barnaby soon found himself grinning like an idiot. "Your a father, Ned."

Edward smile broadened at the us of his childhood nickname. "Come on, Barney, let's go see my daughter."

Edward and Barnaby walked quickly to the queen's chambers, smiling like fools.

They entered Isabel's room, where her ladies were scurrying about, tidying up.

Isabel sat upright in her bed, her hair plaited to one side. She held their daughter and gazed lovingly at her.

She didn't seem to notice their arrival so Edward cleared his throat.

Her head peeked up at them. "Your majesty," she greeted.

"My lady."

Edward walked - no, ran - over to his wife's bedside. He kneeled down beside her. The child looked just like her mother, except for her eyes and skin tone, she had his pale complexion and blue eyes, though all babies eyes were blue at birth. The girl had her mother's brown hair and full red lips. Edward found himself falling in love again with the woman who gave him this angel.

Edward lifted a finger and caressed her cheek with it. The sleeping form smiled in it's sleep. Edward and Isabel laughed adoringly. "She is beautiful," Edward said. "Thank you," he added to Isabel.

Isabel smiled. "It was my great pleasure," she replied. "Now, what should we call her?"

"Jane," Edward insisted, gazing at the child again. "After my mother."

Isabel nodded. "Our little Jane."

#3#

February 1558

Katherine was fuming. The king had returned to the Spaniard and had rarely visited her, not that she cared too much, what she really cared about was that he hadn't given her any jewels or clothes. It was like he had completely forgotten about her because of his new daughter, the Princess Jane. Who, Katherine thought, wasn't even that cute.

If she had a daughter with Edward, she'd be the most beautiful girl in England, not that she cared much for children, but it was inevitable that her children would be gorgeous, how could they not be with a mother as beautiful as she?

Katherine prized herself on her beauty. She was well kept, she brushed her long, curly blonde hair six times a day and bathed once every two days.

Ever since she went to court at the age of thirteen, she had been the centre of attention. Every man and boy, dukes and knight alike, swooned over the pretty little blonde. She had given herself to a duke a week after arriving at court, though it was never told.

Katherine paced up and down her room, whispering furiously and using language that shouldn't be used even in the presence of only a dog. She waited for someone to announce the king's arrival, and when they did, she was full ready to lash out on him.

She dismissed her ladies as soon as she saw his grinning face. "Well?" she demanded.

His face portrayed extreme confusion. "Well what?"

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Where have you been?"

"Excuse me, madam-"

"Don't you 'madam' me! You've practically ignored me for the past month and now you expect me to welcome you back with open arms?" she scoffed. "I never thought you were that stupid!"

Edward's face went red with fury. "I was with my wife and child! You need to remember that your not the First Lady in this land, the Queen - my wife - is."

"So I'm just a toy to you?" she asked softly. "That you can use then throw away?"

Edward's expression softened considerably. "No, I love you Katherine."

"Then why do you ignore me?" she questioned, her voice much harsher than before. "Why do you insist on hurting me? Abandoning me? Did you even care how I felt? Not even a note! I had to rely on gossip, Edward, do you know how that made me feel?"

"I'm sorry!" Edward said.

"You should be!" Katherine retorted. "I love you! But you use me! Do you even love me?"

"O-Of course I do! With everything I am!" he insisted profusely.

"Then I need you to show it," Katherine said. "I need you to express your love for me."

"I'll do anything!"

Katherine almost smirked at the power she had over him, the king! "Write letters, poems. Prove that you love me. Don't just say it. Prove it."

Edward nodded then kissed her passionately. "I'll do it."

He made his way for the door before turning around and shouting joyfully, "Expect lots of gifts from me!"

Katherine smiled brightly. "I will."

He smirked before sauntering out of her quarters.

She had him wrapped around her little finger, that was for sure.

#3#

March 1558

Isabel smiled at the sleeping baby in her arms. She was truly an angel, in more ways than one. She rarely cried, she was always smiling and she even looked like an angel.

She had never seen a baby so beautiful as Jane. Perhaps she was slightly biased, but Jane seemed like a goddess in her eyes. She didn't once wish that Jane had been a boy. She had always preferred girls, though she knew the importance of boys.

She caressed her daughter's chubby cheek. The little girl that she held had done so much for her by just being born. Edward had been nicer to her, and he acted more loving with her. And she liked that. She loved Edward, she really did, though his mistress annoyed her greatly.

She had prepared herself for her husband taking a mistress, her duenna said that it was what kings do. Although, she never thought that a king would keep one for as long as Edward did. Four years was quite a stretch.

Her daughter's big blue eyes opened. Jane's mouth went wide as if to start a wail, but upon seeing her mother, it abruptly closed.

Isabel smiled at her. "Hello my little darling," she cooed, tickling under her chin. "Aren't you a pretty little thing? You have your papa's eyes and your mama's hair. You have your papa's nose and your mama's lips," she smiled down at her. "Aren't you precious? You're the most beautiful girl on the land, I'm sure."

She kissed her daughter's forehead, then her nose, and them her lips. "Mama loves you, Papa loves you. England loves you."

She cuddled her daughter as she sand her a Spanish lullaby.

She would have to go to Beaulieu soon on Edward's orders. She knew that she would visit her very often, but the idea of being apart from her daughter scared her.

So she savoured every single moment she could spend with her sweet girl.

#3#

April 1558

"I don't hate her," Isabel said to her sister-in-law and cousin-once-removed, Princess Mary. "I despise her."

"I can see why," Mary said. "She's very frivolous and ditsy. She reminds me of Katherine Howard, my father's fifth wife."

"Wasn't she the one who was beheaded?" Isabel asked.

Mary nodded. "Her and Anne Boleyn, my father's second 'wife'. She was intelligent, I'll give her that, though I hated her with a passion."

"I can see why. She did practically ruin yours and your mother's lives," she reasoned.

"She was a whore. Elizabeth is nothing like her, though, she is a darling. Very sweet and intelligent," Mary replied.

Isabel had heard nothing good of the Boleyns or the Lady Elizabeth in Spain. She had only heard that Anne Boleyn was a slag who stole the king away from his rightful wife, her great-aunt, and that she got her just deserts in the end. "I am pleased to hear that."

Mary nodded. She loved Elizabeth, but she wished her mother had more children, especially boys. "How is my brother the king faring?"

"Well, though he spends most of his time with his whore."

"He will tire of her. Edward is not our father," Mary told her. "He respects you greatly."

"I suppose that is true."

"And he loves little Jane," Mary added.

Isabel nodded, her heard pained for "He is often boasting about how angelic she is."

Mary smiled. She remembered how her father use to call her 'the pearl of his world'. She viewed him as such a saint back then. She could now see how wrong she was. "I pray you will have sons soon."

Isabel's face fell. It had been a topic weighing on her mind for very long now. She wondered whether her husband would do away with her if she failed him. He could, that was for sure. And since her father was dead now, and her brother, who cared more for politics than his siblings, was on the throne, she had lost all security that she briefly felt. "I pray too."

Mary observed her. She was obviously scared. She didn't see why. Her brother was a very kind king. He wouldn't hurt her. Though he had once sent her away to the countryside because she didn't share his religious views. She had become more submissive. She missed court greatly, and wanted to see the new queen. "You will have a son. God should grant you one."

"Princess Mary, God is not always fair and just."

#3#

September 1558

That whore, Edward thought. Has she been leading me on to believe she loves me? And Henry Howard! A man who he had trusted greatly.

Katherine had told him she loved him more than anything, and all the while she had been whoring about with another man, a friend of his, no less.

He stormed into her chambers. Katherine and her ladies seemed to jump at his sudden arrival. They all, including Katherine, curtsied to the king.

"Leave us!" he ordered. The all scurried off, glad to not be present during another one of their arguments. "You little whore!" he yelled. "You lied to me!"

Katherine was taken aback by his outburst. "Edward, I-"

"You will call me 'your majesty' from now on as you have lost the favour you once unrightfully held."

"Your majesty," she tried, "I don't understand, what have I done to displease you?"

Edward laughed derisively. "You know what you did, whore," he said harshly. "You swore to me that you loved me, and all the while you were whoring about with Norfolk."

Tears welled up in Katherine's brown eyes. "I'm sorry!"

"Really?" he scoffed. "Are you really sorry? Because last time I checked, whores don't have feelings!"

"I am sorry! I got carried away! I-" her rant was interrupted by a hard smack.

"Shut up!" he yelled in her face. "I give you my devout attention, and you throw it back in my face?"

"I-"

"You told me you loved me, while you said the same to another man?"

"I do love you!" she lied.

"You loved the power, didn't you? All the dresses the jewels? The household? Well it's all gone now!" he laughed. "You're going back to your home, disgraced. No household, no jewels, no dresses, not even a parting pension! Your going home with what you came here with."

Katherine's face was solemn. She'd been a fool. How could she have been so stupid! A woman can't have two lovers, especially if one of those lovers is the king!

"And your lover hasn't done himself any favours either," he said before storming off.

As soon as she heard the door slam shut, Katherine fell to her knees and mourned all that she lost. She'd never see Henry again! Her five years of fortune were all gone, as if they never happened. She was now a used up lady. Thrown aside because she loved another man.

'Virginity is a woman's greatest dowry," her grandmother had told her when she was a little girl. ' But once you lose it, you can't get it back.'


	4. Part One - Death of the Most Beloved

Rahja (Guest): Your review really put a smile on my face! I'm really happy you like the story, and I thought that it seemed rushed, so I'm glad you thought I paced it well. And I'm the same, I think that Edward would've been like his father, probably not to the extent that my Edward is. And wife number six is my favourite. I haven't wrote her yet, but I have a few ideas on what she'll be like though.

Thank you so much for following and favouriting! It's always good to know that people like the story.

Part One - The Spanish Queen

Chapter Four

Death of the Most Beloved

October 1558

A month later and Edward had forgotten about the little whore. He had gotten over his heartbreak by sleeping with his wife's ladies, he didn't feel anything for any one of them, though. They were only a fun past time.

He had realised how beautiful his young wife was, and how stupid he had been for wishing that Katherine was his wife. Katherine would've made a horrible queen, while Isabel was a great queen and loved by all.

Their daughter, the Princess Jane, was getting more and more beautiful each time he saw her. He went to Beaulieu with Isabel once every week, or sometimes Isabel went without him because he was busy. She hadn't been with child since the birth of their darling. He called Jane his 'golden girl'. He had dresses made for her for when she was older, most of them were gold, to symbolise her standing. There was no doubt of the king's love for his darling. He spent thousands upon thousands on her welfare. And he had even arranged her tutors for when she was three.

The Lady Elizabeth's old governess, Katherine "Kat"Ashley, would be taken out of Elizabeth's household and put in the princess'. Jane's tutors would be a variety from Spain, Germany, England and France. She would be the most learned lady in England, no in Europe, Edward decided. She would make a valuable marriage to a foreign king, or a foreign duke.

Edward was deeply grieving for the Lady Mary was ill. Isabel was very upset as well. Edward sent Mary his best physicians, and had sent her a letter saying that though they had their difference, he cared for her greatly and wished her well.

He prayed that she wouldn't die. The whole court was. It was only then did Edward realise how fond the court was of the Lady Mary. He never asked anyone to pray for her, and yet, according to Barnaby and Dudley, they were already praying for her health at every free chance.

It was time to show people how united the royal family was, Edward had thought. He invited Lady Elizabeth back to court, and Princess Jane was brought to court as well. Elizabeth, Edward decided, would stay at court and given quarters suited for a princess, like Mary had been given before her return to Hunsdon.

Elizabeth loved her new quarters. She danced at all celebrations and revelled in the attention given to her at court. From what Edward had heard of Anne Boleyn, she was her mother's daughter. He noticed a closeness between his friend, Robert Dudley and Elizabeth, though he made nothing of it, as court crushes usually amounted to nothing, especially for royalty.

Elizabeth's marriage was political, even if she was by English law a bastard, it was strictly political. She could be married to a foreign duke, a wealthy one, who accepted her status as illegitimate.

#4#

A week before November and things weren't looking up for Mary. She was going to die, and everyone knew it.

Edward wanted to make up for everything that happened between them, for all the wrongs he had done her. And their were a few ways to do that, but one thing seemed to be the most effective.

He was going to make Mary legitimate, and, if he could manage, Elizabeth too. He had brought it up at the Privy Council meeting. Archbishop Cranmar said he would look into it.

He wanted all of Europe to see that Mary was legitimate, and to an extent, Elizabeth as well. He would work with the Pope. Though he hated the Pope, he wanted to to make peace with both Him and the Catholic Kings and Dukes of Europe.

The Pope had willingly agreed, saying that he was glad they had come to their senses, and he accepted that they were of a different church and hoped that they could work as brothers in the future.

Edward's feelings towards the Pope had softened at his words. He had a decree passed in November declaring his father, King Henry of England, and Catherine of Aragon, Queen of England's marriage true and valid in the eyes of God.

#4#

Mary hadn't felt so happy in years. Her father and mother's marriage was valid, and she was legitimate.

In her final years, her hatred for Anne Boleyn lessened and her hatred for her father increased. In her childhood, she was sure it was Anne Boleyn who ruined her family, and up until last year she thought that she was the one deserving of full blame, but now, although she still hated Anne and thought she was still deserving of her fate, she realised it was her father who sent her to serve Elizabeth, although Anne had enough influence to change his mind, it was her father who threatened her with death. Her father had become a tyrant in his older years, and his extreme lust and pride were to blame.

Jane Seymour was the one to reunite her with her father, and she was eternally grateful for that. She would never forget the kind and graceful woman who died giving her father what he most desired, a son. She had truly grieved her death, the loving woman who had helped her in so many ways. She showed her that not all was lost.

She felt a close bond with Anne of Cleves, the lady who was thrown away because she wasn't beautiful in the eyes of a hypocritical king. Their religious differences got in the way at first, although Anne was more than willing to put aside their religious differences and become friends, but Mary wasn't as accepting. When Mary decided to accept Anne's Lutheran ways, and the two became good friends, even when her father annulled his marriage to Anne.

Kathryn Howard. Oh how she detested that little trollop. She was nine years younger than her as she had married the king at sixteen years of age. She was frivolous. And what was worse she was Anne Boleyn's cousin! She had tried to disguise her jealousy of her with feelings of hate. The feelings had merged. When the little girl stormed into her room and demanded she respect her, she had tried her very best keep her posture and not slap the little harlot. When she was condemned to die, she could not help but feel a little pity for the girl. She was nothing but a pig sent to slaughter, used and neglected by those who cared for her. Though her feelings of hate never went away, her feelings of pity grew stronger with age. She was just another one of her father's victims. Another lost life.

Katherine Parr was the Queen who finished her predecessor's, Jane Seymour's, work. She had reunited them all as a family. She had restored Mary and Elizabeth to the line of succession, and all the while, she kept her head. She was a heretic, which Mary found hard to overlook. But it seemed the country was full of heretics now. She was very upset upon hearing of Katherine's death. She was more of a friend than a stepmother to her. And she would never forget what she did for her.

Mary them closed her eyes for the final time, remembering everything she would leave behind. She took her last breath before taking her leave of the world.

The Princess was dead. Her struggle was over.

#4#

"Dear brother,

I write this to you upon my final hours. My life on earth has been difficult, but also enjoyable. I have faced struggles and hardships, I have felt love and loss, hatred and deceit, joy and pain. Nonetheless I shall look back on my life fondly, and will always remember my beloved family.

I look back on my life with few regrets. I regret lying and deceiving others for my life. I die a faithful Catholic, brother. I die a subject to both your majesty and the Pope, though I believe your majesty is only the ruler of this realm. I do not mean to offend you dear brother, as I have always held you most dear, and I shan't judge you for your religion and I pray you won't judge me for mine. I was born a Catholic, and thus I should die one.

I have been harsh to those who do not share my faith, and although I believe that Catholicism is the only true faith, I should have treated those people equally and not as sinners.

Your majesty, I beseech you to forgive my sins and think of me kindly. I may be gone, but I will always watch over you, as I had done when you were just a babe.

Your majesty has pleased me greatly in these past weeks. You have given me light in my last days, and have proved to me that there is still goodness and love in the world. And I am forever grateful.

I ask your most humble majesty for forgiveness, and ask you to express my love to your majesty's wife and daughter and our sister.

I die your majesty's faithful subject, friend and beloved sister,

The Princess Mary"

Edward wiped his eyes as he finished the letter. He hated himself for the hardship he put her through, all because of her religion. She was family, although blind to the real faith. He should have accepted who she was and not have her feel obliged to lie about what religion she believed in.

He let a tear fall from his eye and onto the paper which he held.

He noticed a figure coming from the corner of his eye. The figure kneeled beside him and glanced at the letter before pulling him into her arms and stroking his air affectionately. "Mi amor," Isabel soothed.

"I was so cruel to her, Isabel," Edward cried. "I never told her how much I cared for her."

"I am sure she knew," Isabel reasoned. "And I am sure she's watching over you."

Edward sobbed into Isabel's shoulder. Mary had held him when he was upset. She had told him of his mother, she had reassured him when he was doubtful of his father's love. Now she was gone. "I miss her so much."

Tears welled up in Isabel's eyes. "I know," she whispered. "But we'll get through this. Together."

#4#

January 1559

New Years Celebrations passed quickly.

It sparked a new beginning in Edward's eyes. Isabel was again with child, which Edward was convinced was a healthy boy. Isabel always made sure to rest a hand on her stomach, to show everyone that she was with child.

Edward hadn't strayed in the two months Isabel announced she was pregnant. Which was, to most of the courtiers, surprising. To his family, though, it was expected. Edward had viewed Mary's death as a sign from God that he had been a bad person, so he decided he'd change. He played the devoted father and husband well. Isabel was very happy for his attention. Because, unlike when she was pregnant with Jane, she didn't have to worry about mistresses, or more

specifically 'that woman'.

The rekindled love was a relief from the unspoken hatred Edward felt towards her. Their conversations were light and humorous, and occasionally loving and fond. When they slept together it was passionate, not dutiful and resented. Edward loved his wife again, it was evident to all who looked.

Edward bit his bore. He had went hunting with Barnaby and Robert Dudley and had killed a bore and a bird. "How is the child?" Edward asked his wife.

"Well," Isabel replied joyfully, smiling brightly. "Restless."

Edward grinned. It was a boy. Boys were much more restless and strong than girls. "I am very pleased to hear."

"Her hair has turned a redder shade of brown," Isabel announced, watching a courtier carefully as he tested her wine. "Though the rest of her appearance is much the same."

Edward smiled broadly. "She will be a Tudor girl for sure!" he declared. "The prettiest of them all! As well as the wisest lady in Europe!"

"I am sure she will," Isabel said, taking a sip of her wine gingerly. She feared being poisoned greatly. "With the tutors and governesses you have assigned her."

"Only the best deserve the best," Edward smirked. "And our daughter will be a devout scholar, I am sure. She will have the best of us both in her."

"She's already displaying our shared stubbornness," Isabel told him. "An admirable and incredibly annoying trait in one."

"Indeed," Edward said. He rose his wine in the air. "To our daughter."

Isabel rose her glass, grinning widely. "Our daughter."


	5. Part One - Harmony and Destruction

Robin4: Thank you so much for the compliment! And I'm glad you like the characters. I try really hard to have then show faults and good traits, because nobody's perfect. Writing Mary's death was really heartbreaking for me. I've always admired her for her courage and strong will. And thanks again for the review and compliment. It means a lot to me.

Vader's Mistress: I felt sorry from Katherine too, even though I was the one who made Edward get rid of her. Mwahaha! And thanks a million for the review!

Part One - The Spanish Queen  
Chapter Five  
Harmony and Destruction

February 1559

"They call themselves the Suffrage of Freedom. They oppose your majesty's faith, and wish for you to accept Catholicism as a minor fate, if not the true faith of England."

Edward stared at Robert Dudley as he spoke. These people - these idiots - expected him to convert or accept a hypocritical faith in his country? Sure, he would condone it in other countries, as he had no choice but to. His country was like his child. He had to nurture it, protect it, raise it properly, or else it would go the wrong way and change everything good.

This rebellion had shown him the stupidity that Catholics held. They had little right to reside in his kingdom, he was being gracious by letting them stay!

He had executed a Catholic man named Richard Hughes a few weeks ago for preaching of the old - and wrong - faith. The man's speech had been very controversial. He had done the opposite of what was expected of a man or woman's last words before they died on the scaffold. Instead of proclaiming his punishment 'right and just' and asking people to pray for the king, he told them to reject the king's heresy and to stand strong for the true faith. He called the king a fervent heretic, and had asked them all to pray that he would see the error of his ways.

Robert decided to break the silence that followed. "Your majesty, what should we do with the rebels."

Edward laughed like a maniac. Was Robert that daft, he asked himself. "Oh dear Robert, we execute them of course. Every man, woman and child who rebel or relish in the way of the faith of hypocrites deserve to be punished a accordingly. And thus, should be hang, drawn and quartered, unless they are deemed fortunate enough to be beheaded."

Robert flinched at the king's cruelty. The boy he and Barnaby Fitzpatrick were raised with would have never said that. "If your majesty is sure-"

"I am," Edward said. "Those bastards deserve to be punished."

"But the children, Ned," Barnaby interrupted. "Would you really execute the children?"

Edward sighed. "I suppose not. They are just children after all. They probably didn't know what they were doing. But I am adamant about executing the men and women."

"And the children who will be orphans, Ned?" Barnaby insisted. "What are you going to do about them?"

"She children of the traitors? Well there going to have to live with their relatives, aren't they? Or go to an orphanage."

"Ned-"

"Shut up, Barnaby!" Edward snapped. "I am the king, for God's sake! I know what I want to do and I shan't be persuaded otherwise! I don't want to be known as the weak king who bent to his peer's will! I want to be remembered as a strong and fearless king. I will be remembered as a strong and fearless king."

#5#

March 1559

Edward glared at the man that stood before him. He couldn't even call him a man without feeling the urge to vomit, he was more a traitor than a man.

The man had betrayed him twice. First when he had relations with his beloved Katherine, and now he had betrayed him by participating in the uprising.

"Your majesty," the bastard greeted as he bowed. "To what to I owe this pleasure?"

"Pleasure?" Edward scoffed. "You've betrayed me! You lied to me!"

Norfolk stared at him blankly. He feared that this was about his liaisons with Katherine Brydges. He hadn't heard from her in months. "Excuse me, your majesty?"

Edward laughed derisively. "Don't play the fool! You fucking betrayed me! Twice! Though I believe this time is much more serious."

"What gave I done to cause your majesty displeasure?"Norfolk asked meekly.

"You participated in the Suffrage of Freedom, hasn't you? You led it! I know you did!"

Norfolk had no clue what the king was saying. He had never even thought of participating in them. "I have never-"

"Don't lie to me, Norfolk!" Edward yelled. "I know you did. There are witnesses, for fuck's sake!"

"Your majesty-"

"Barnaby, Robert," Edward called. Two men appeared with large smirks on their obnoxious faces. "Take this bastard to the tower. I never want to see his traitorous face again."

Robert and Barnaby were delighted about Norfolk's downfall. They hated the power the bastard had held before his affair with Lady Katherine came out. They had orchestrated his downfall, they planted seeds in Edward's head which grew easily. And now, there was little threat for power. They had eliminated the biggest threat.

#5#

"I hereby profess thee, Thomas Howard, 4th Duke of Norfolk, guilty of all crimes pleaded against him, and condemned to die by either hang, drawn and quartered or beheaded, whichever does please his majesty, King Edward."

The judge's words echoed in Thomas' head. He hadn't participated in the rebellion, and if he hadn't known Katherine he wouldn't be here. He was sure that the king's ulterior motive was Thomas' affair with Katherine. The king had been very fond of her. How could he not? She was beautiful. Her blonde hair that cascaded down to her hips in an abundance of curls. Her skin that beamed with a youthful glow. And her brown eyes that sparkled innocently, misleading people to believe she was a virtuous, sweet girl.

He had loved her, and would die for her a million times over. He would have married her if that didn't mean the king's wrath, which, as some said, was as equally bad as his father's. He didn't deserve his crown. His thoughts were treasonous, but they were true, and he was going to die anyway.

His sister, Jane, could relish the favour of the queen for longer. He, like many courtiers, had noticed the closeness between the queen and Jane. Jane was lovely, in his opinion. She was kind, funny, intelligent, witty and free willed. She was also incredibly beautiful, more so than the king's wife. He was sure that if the king hasn't been married to Queen Isabel, he'd have married Katherine.

It was the morning of his execution. He had wrote his speech the night before, and had practised it many times. He had wrote it carefully, any slip up could mean ruin for his family.

"My lord," said the guard, "it is time."

Thomas swallowed and nodded. "Thank you."

He rose from his chair. His face was white and colourless. He was terrified of the fate ahead of him. What if there was no heaven or hell, that you just went into a sleep, never to be awoken again? What if he went to hell for the sins he had committed?

He left his room, looking back at it as he left. He put on a brave face. He didn't want to be remembered as a coward, and he wouldn't be.

The guards led him out of the tower and into the public's crowd didn't cheer, they didn't glare. They just watched him carefully. The ambassadors especially. They wanted to see the man who had risen so high in favour fall the lowest one can go in the English court.

He was lucky. The king had sentenced him to death by beheading. He approached the platform, all eyes were on him.

He stood in front of them all, ready to make his last speech.

"I come here today to die. Not to profess my innocence or plead my cause. I have sinned and thus my punishment is right and just. I ask his majesty's, and all of thee's, forgiveness. I am forever his majesty's humble and obedient servant in both life and death. I apologise to those who I have wronged and maimed. I ask for you all to pray for his majesty. And now I leave you all to join the Holy Father in his kingdom."

He kneeled in front of the scaffold. He blessed himself and begun chanting "I beseech you Lord to receive my soul, o'Jesus Christ accept my soul."

He laid his head on the block, praying fervently. His life flashed before his eyes. All of his happy memories, most of them of Katherine. His beautiful Katherine. Her joyous smile, her feminine life.

The execution lifted his axe, and with one strike, everything was gone.

Another death ordered by a Tudor.

#5#

"No!" Katherine screamed. "No! He cannot be dead! Mary, Mary, tell the page that Thomas is not dead, he is just residing in the tower."

Her elder sister, Mary, laid a hand on Katherine's shoulder. "Katherine," she said calmly. "He's dead. "You may go," she ordered the page, who bowed and left.

Katherine shook her off and turned to face her. "He's not dead. Ed- His majesty is not that cruel!"

"Yes, he is, Katherine. He's a Tudor, is he not?"

Katherine shook her head. "You don't know him, Mary, he'd never do that."

"He would," Mary argued. "You've only seen the affectionate side of his majesty."

"And you the cruel."

"Katherine," Mary said softly, "he's dead."

Katherine looked out the window beside Mary, trying desperately not to look at her sister. "He's not. He can't be. His majesty wouldn't do that to m- to Thomas."

Mary ignored the slip-up. "He would and he did. The king is all powerful, Katherine, you seem to forget that."

Katherine glared at Mary furiously. "No, I do not forget that. You must think me a fool!"

"I don't think you a fool, though you are most certainly are acting like one," Mary insisted. "He is dead, Katherine. And the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be."

Katherine's eyes filled with years. "But I don't want to accept it," she replied tearfully. "I want him, Mary. I need him."

"Come here," Mary demanded, stretching out her arms.

Mary cooed to her as Katherine weeper in her arms. Mary thought she was being foolish, being attached to a man, she didn't understand love.

"I loved him, Mary. I really did."

June 1559

Isabel pushed fervently. It was the second time she was on her birthing bed, and she prayed it was the last time, though she knew it wouldn't be.

He duenna, Señora Rodriquez, who was now her chief lady-in-waiting, held her hand as she did when she gave birth to her beloved Jane one and a half years ago.

Lady Jane Howard wiped her sweaty forehead with a towel. There was no encouraging smile, no anything, there was just duty. She had been that way since the death of her much beloved brother. It was as if she blamed the royal family for his conviction, though he was innocent of his sins, God was punishing him for other sins, and Jane should now that.

"Get this thing out of me!" Isabel screamed.

It had been a full day and a half since she had begun labour. She was exhausted and hoped that it would end soon. The anticipation of seeing her baby wasn't helping either.

She pushed for the last time and this time, her baby was born.

She midwife picked the child up and examined it. "A princess, milady."

Isabel smiled. Another princess, she was sure boys would follow if God willed it. As the midwives cleaned up her daughter, Isabel's ladies tidied her up. The Queen's eyes didn't go off of the little princess. When both she and her daughter were clean and tidy, Isabel was handed her little girl. She was amazed by the little girl in her arms. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, like an angel. She was identical to her father, in all ways. Her eyes were blue, her skin was a pale white, and her hair was the famous Tudor red hair.

She was so captivated by the little girl, that she didn't notice her husband marching in, smiling happily.

"Isabel," he greeted and she looked up. He beckoned for everyone to leave them.

Isabel feared that he would shout at her, and when he kneeled down to her and kissed her forehead and the baby's cheek, it came as a surprise. Edward was very happy with his little girl. A son would be next, he was sure. She wouldn't fail him.

"What should we name her?" Isabel asked.

"Mary," he replied, "to honour my beautiful sister."


	6. Part One - The Rise of the Fallen Stars

A/N: Prepare yourselves for a big jump, ten years to be exact. Sorry if that upsets anyone. Ill clear up what has happened in the past ten years in the course of the chapter. Happy reading!

Part One - The Spanish Queen  
Chapter Six  
The Rise of the Fallen Stars

August 1569

It had been seven years since Isabel had been pregnant, the child was lost, and Edward had lost hope that he'd have another child.

He resented her for it. She had made him the laughing stock of Christendom! She had made the other European kings question his manliness! He had fathered only two girls, Jane, now eleven, and Mary, now ten.

He had many mistresses, his favourite being Alice Goodwyn, daughter of John Goodwyn, a courtier and knight. The Goodwyns received many favours from the king, including money and lands. He was very besotted by Alice, who had a very pretty face and was brilliant in bed. His friends, Barnaby and Robert, had been jealous that he got to sleep with the beauty.

All was good until, in February, she announced she was pregnant, and then, in May, she had a miscarriage, further damaging Edward's masculinity. It was a boy, which hurt Edward very much. He would have loved to have a boy. Though, he had repealed the Act his father had passed stating that the sovereign could chose his successor. So, if he named a bastard son as his successor, it would be largely hypocritical.

Elizabeth had refused every suitor he proposed, stating that she would never marry. She had lied to him, her sovereign lord, and had married his best friend, Robert Dudley.

They had married in secret. Edward had heard about it from his chancellor, who had heard it from his son, Guilford, husband of Lady Jane Dudley. Edward called Elizabeth from the country where she had resided for the past month.

"The Lady Elizabeth Tudor."

His sister walked forward and curtsied gracefully. Edward watched her carefully, angry at how she faked obedience.

"Sister," Edward greeted in as calm a voice he could muster, "you may rise. I hear you have married Dudley."

Elizabeth answered as she stood up, "yes, I have."

"Have you slept together?" Edward pried.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks go red. "Yes, we have."

Edward stood up from his chair and marched up to his sister. "You little whore!" he yelled viscously. "How dare you marry without my express permission! And then consummate the marriage!"

Elizabeth did not cower, though she was scared out of her wits. "My lord, I do apologise for not asking your majesty's permission first, but I do not regret marrying him."

Edward boiled with anger. He just wanted to strangle her little neck, but he held back, as it would not go down well with the people as they liked Elizabeth, although, they rightfully despised her mother. "I will make you regret it!"

Elizabeth's expression displayed a tint of fear she could not cover. "Your majesty-"

"Who can I trust if not my own sister? My own flesh and blood? You, my lady, went behind my back and married Dudley, and you claim to not regret it," his tone became softer during his next words, "I can make you both regret it, Elizabeth. I can make you suffer," he laughed derisively. "I can make you lose your head! Or be burned! So, Elizabeth, I suggest you shut your mouth and run off to your country house while I decide whether or not I will let you live."

Elizabeth felt a beam of bravery spark inside of her. "You can kill us, your majesty, you can burn every child that I bare from my womb, but you will never take away the love in my heart that burns for Robert. You can take away my jewels, my dresses, you can leave me with nothing, but I will always relish the love I have for Robert. And death shall not extinguish the flame of desire."

They hadn't spoken for months. He wouldn't kill either of them, he cared for them too much, he was making them worry, which proves satisfactory enough for Edward.

His wife and he hadn't spoken privately in months. They attended banquets and jousts together, but they rarely talked. He usually wore her favour during jousts, but sometimes he wore another woman's, occasionally one he never met but wished to bed, and the women here were more than willing to let King Edward in their skirts.

He had executed a number of men and women in the past ten years. His persecution of Catholics became much more frequent. Isabel became worried because she was a secret Catholic, but she and Edward rarely discussed religion, so it was unlikely to come up.

Jane and Mary were two of the most intelligent women alive. Their father worked very hard on giving then the best education. Edward believed that intelligent women make better queens, but not better wives. What Edward liked, was women who were clever when asked to speak, but would not speak when not spoken to. But, unfortunately, those women were very rare to come by.

He loved his daughters, but he wished that they were boys, or even if one of them were a boy.

#6#

February 1570

Mary Brydges took a sip of her wine as she spoke to her brother. The Hall was full of people, both men and women, dancing and chatting to each other, and some of them flirting. She had been brought to court to make an advantageous husband. She had many suitors vying for her hand. Some of them old, some of the young. Some of them ugly, some of them handsome.

Her family had been practically ruined by the downfall of her sister. She was hear, as well as to find a husband, to clear the family's name. To show all of the courtiers and the king that not all Brydges are whores. And they weren't.

"Mary," John said, "stand up straight. Nobody likes a slouch."

"I am not slouching!" Mary replied. "And don't reprimand me. My posture is none of your concern."

John shook his head disapprovingly. "But your marriage is," John told her. "And no man likes a sloppy lady."

Mary rolled her eyes and straightened her posture. "Happy?"

John nodded. "The king is looking at you," Mary twitched her head as to look behind her. "Don't look back!"

"Is he glaring?"

"No," John said, a smile twitching on his face. "He's almost drooling."

Mary tried to muffle a snort. John laughed at her attempt. Some of the courtiers were looking at them like they were crazy. "Is he?" Mary asked.

"Yes," John answered.

"Why do you think he's looking at me?"

John sighed. "Perhaps he wants you in his bed," he whispered.

"No," Mary shook her head. "I won't. I won't end up like Katherine. Stuck at home with a large chance of dying a spinster. I won't be a mistress."

"Well then, Mary, you're in luck," John smirked.

"Why?"

"Because the Queen is barren."

#6#

March 1570

Isabel wasn't happy when she heard of her husband's latest mistress. It seemed he was infatuated by her. She had refused to sleep with him. Isabel knew what game she was playing at.

The girl who washed her feet was trying to dispose of her. The little harlot wanted her crown. She would stay strong her marriage to Edward was lawful in every way, both legally and in the eyes of God. Only the greatest scholar in Europe could find something invalid about the marriage.

Isabel was in shock when she heard a man announce the arrival of Barnaby Fitzpatrick. He bowed to the Queen, but rose quickly, a little too quickly for Isabel's liking. "Your majesty," he began, "I come here on the orders given to me by King Edward. You are ordered to go to Beaulieu and to stay there until his majesty sees it fit for you to return. Your daughters, the Princess Jane and Mary, will have arrived before you."

So she was being sent away. She didn't think it would happen so quickly. Perhaps Edward knew she wanted to see her daughters? "May I ask the reason for my sudden visit to Beaulieu?"

Barnaby had been told to lie to the Queen if she asked anything deemed unsuitable for her to know by Edward. "His majesty thinks that you need some fresh air. Away from court."

She could tell he was lying. Although she made little of it. Her husband wanted to spend time with his harlot, then let him. She had no problem noticing that in her large household, the Lady Mary Brydges was absent. Of course she was. The girl was two years younger than her sister. She was much more prettier, Isabel had thought. Her hair was fairer, her eyes bluer and had face paler. She was the perfect English lady. Her posture was much better than her sister's, she always stood tall and proud. The family resemblance was evident, though. By the smug smirk they both wore. It made Isabel want to wipe it off. It was the Lady Brydges who appeared with her husband on social occasions, and like her sister had done once, she had sat on her throne.

She entered the doors of Beaulieu, followed by her endless line of ladies. Her Spanish ladies had been dismissed by John Dudley before she had arrived at Beaulieu. He accused them of being spies. It broke her heart to see Señora Rodriquez go, she was the last piece she had of home.

As she entered, she was greeted by a line of her daughters' households. They curtsied to her as she walked through the hall. She stopped when she saw Lady Ashley. "My lady," she said, "would you be so kind to show me where my beautiful daughters are."

Kat Ashley rose from her curtsy. "Yes, your majesty."

They walked up three fleets of stairs before reaching the study, where Jane and Mary were reading. As soon as they saw there mother, they stood up and curtsied.

Isabel smiled proudly at her girls. "You may rise."

They both stood up. Mary wore a broad smile on her aristocratic features, while Jane wore a frown. She had heard the whispers about her father's affair with Lady Brydges, which her younger sister was ignorant about.

Isabel studied her daughters. They were both very beautiful. "You both look very well."

Mary and Jane replied in unison, "thank you, your majesty."

"Oh, there's no need for formalities. You may just call me 'Mother'."

"Yes, mother."

#6#

April 1570

Mary sat on Edward's lap as he fondled her breasts. They were at court, but Edward didn't care. He was taken with lust. He would give his kingdom just to have her right now. He had never felt that way about a woman, but then again, he never met a woman like Mary.

"I want you," he whispered in her ear seductively.

"I know," Mary replied. "But we must wait until we are married."

"We should be married soon," he said. "My marriage to Isabel will be annulled soon, though my daughters will be legitimate, as they were conceived in good faith."

Mary frowned. She wanted the Spanish half-breeds named as bastards so they didn't pose a threat to her children. "How?"

"Isabel is a Catholic," Edward whispered. "She has a Catholic confessor."

Mary smirked, although Edward didn't see it. "She does not!"

Edward nodded. "Yes, my sweet. I am passing a law saying that any royal bride must be of the Protestant faith. And any queen who hides her Catholicism will have her marriage to her husband annulled."

Mary's smirk broadened. "So we shall be married soon?"

Edward nodded. "Very soon indeed."

#6#

July 1570

Isabel almost fainted when she had heard the news. She was to go to Whitehall to plead her case. When they married she had known no law that said it was illegal to be a Catholic and a wife to the king.

Her brother was too preoccupied with the French and Civil War to help her. She had written to him, he had replies saying that he would do all he could, though in the last two months he had done nothing. He hadn't even wrote to Edward. She was alone.

She had been informed that her daughters would be legitimate no matter what the verdict was. She was relieved when she heard it. If the kingdom was just, they would let her remain the Queen of England. But the court of England was one of the most corrupt in Europe. They were all social climbers, manipulative snakes. They would do as their king asked.

She entered Whitehall. The courtiers bowed and curtsied to her, as it was still required by protocol. Though the Brydges faction seemed reluctant to do so.

She came across Lady Mary Brydges, who wore her usual smug smirk. She stood beside her sister, Katherine. She had obviously been invited back to court. Lady Katherine wore a childish smirk. You would never guess that it was Katherine who was the elder sister. Mary, no matter how much Isabel despised the little harlot, had undeniable grace. She was uneducated though. She had the typical Tudor girl education of embroidery, English, dance, singing and other womanly skills.

"Lady Brydges," she said, addressing Mary.

"Madam," she replied. Mary refused to curtsy to the pretender.

"I see you wish to see me fall," Isabel stated. "But no matter how far I fall, I will always rise higher. Perhaps not in your eyes, but in the eyes of God. But you, my lady, will fall further than I, both ways. The second time is always the biggest disappointment," her lip curled. "Especially with Tudors."

Katherine looked terrified, while Mary appeared unaffected. "I will bare him a son, madam. Like you have failed to do. Our son will be king. Yours are six feat under the ground."

Isabel smirked. "We shall see."

She turned around and entered the court. "Isabel of Austria, Queen of England."

She entered the podium where she would stay for the trial. Her eyes locked with Edward's for a moment. She betrayed all of her emotions in one glance. Edward felt bad for what he had put her through, but she deserved it. She lied to him.

"Isabel, Queen of England. You are aware of the law that states you may not marry the king if you keep hidden your religion?" Dudley accused.

"I am aware it was passed two months ago," Isabel stated boldly.

"Do you admit that you believe in Catholicism? That you have allegiance to the Bishop of Rome? And that you have been hearing Mass privately?"

Isabel swallowed. Her face betrayed no emotions, but her heart was beating wildly. "I do."

"Do you acknowledge that this is treason?"

"I do not, my lord."

The hall's silence broke into an abundance of whispers. "Quiet!" Dudley shouted. "And by denying that it is treason, do you also acknowledge that you think yourself better than the Law of England?"

"No, my lords," Isabel declared. "The charges you accuse me of have only been stated as of late, and thus I have had no knowledge of them on my wedding day."

"But do you recognise that your marriage to the king is is, as of two months ago when the law was passed, invalid?"

"Why am I here if my marriage to his majesty is already invalid?" she asked the court.

"Answer!"

"I do not. But according to you all it us already invalid and I have no need to be here but to be humiliated," Isabel spat.

"Do you reject the annulment?"

"With every fibre in my being," she stared at Edward. "I have been a true wife to his majesty since the day we were wedded, and I will remain so until my dying breath, though it pleases him to turn me away. I have borne him love and two beautiful daughters. And if his majesty sees it fit to lock me away, I will a abide by his majesty's ruling. But if his majesty casts me away in favour for another woman, I will still remain his majesty's faithful wife till death do we part."

The jury's eyes flickered from the Queen and his majesty. After a minute, Dudley broke the silence that followed Isabel's speech. "So you will ignore English law?"

"I abide by God's law first and foremost."

"Your God or my God?" Edward asked suddenly.

Isabel studied his face, it was emotionless just like hers. "Our God," she answered. "We all share a God, do we not? It is the practices and laws we comprehend from God's word that makes us differ. I tell you all, that I practice the ways of the Catholic Church. I see the Pope as the leader of the Church. I see his majesty as my sovereign, king and husband. Whether he deny it or no."

Edward glared at her. "Jury, decide your verdict," Dudley said.

Edward went up to Dudley and whispered something in his ear, Dudley looked scandalised but nodded, and then told the jury something. Isabel worried about what it was, as they kept on looking at her as they spoke.

"Isabel, Princess of Castile and Aragon, Archduchess of Austria, please stand for the verdict."

Isabel stood, noticing the change of her title. She closed her eyes firmly, awaiting the words that could change her life forever, or the words that she would forever cherish.

Each member of the jury pronounced her marriage invalid. Dudley smirked.

"Isabel Habsburg, your marriage to King Edward is null and void according to God's law. You will be named from this day forward, her highness, Archduchess of Austria. Your children by the king will continue to be legitimate as they were bore in good faith. Do you accept?" Dudley stated.

All eyes were on the Stubborn Spaniard. "My daughters are legitimate, as my marriage to his majesty was and always will be, true in the eyes of God. I have always abided by his majesty's wishes, but I fear I cannot go against my morals."

Edward scowled at her. He couldn't believe he once loved her. She was unruly and disobedient, nothing like a proper wife. Nothing like his beautiful Mary.

"If your highness accepts the verdict, then you shall reside in one of the royal palaces, but should you dare to reject the verdict, we have reason to imprison you in the tower," Dudley told her, wearing a slight smirk.

They all expected her to back down, to live disgraced in a palace, they should've known better. "If it pleases his majesty."


	7. Part Two - The Lady in the Tower

A/N: So we are on Part Two now! Yayyyy! I'm kind of sad that I had to say goodbye to Isabel, I really liked her. But now it's time for Wife Number two and Part Two - The Lady of Honour. And no, while she will share some qualities with Anne Boleyn, she won't be her clone.

Part Two - The Lady of Honour

Chapter Seven

The Lady in the Tower

January 1571

Mary smiled at Edward, her hand resting on her growing stomach. In there was the Prince of Wales. Edward's little boy, his awaited son. Mary was sure it was a son. Born to seal her position as queen, the first of many sons.

Edward looked proudly at his wife's stomach. He was sure the child was a boy, his beautiful and awaited son. He loved his daughters, though they were born from his despised ex-"wife". Jane, his eldest daughter, now thirteen, resided in Beaulieu. He had discussed marriage arrangements with foreign kings, he differed from the France and Scandinavian ones. Mary, now eleven years old, lived in Eltham. The boy which Mary, his wife and queen, carried, would stay in Hatfield. He would be the most cherished of princes. Mary would bare him many sons, and, perhaps, after the sons, daughters.

"You are well?" Edward asked.

Mary nodded and smiled. "I am."

"How is my son?"

"Strong," Mary told him, her hand circling around her stomach. "I hardly get any sleep. He will be a fine warrior indeed."

Edward grinned. Mary's hand went to her side, grasping it. Her mouth shaped into an 'o', before curving into a smile. She took his hand and placed it on her stomach. Edward felt a large thump where his hand lay. His grin widened, and then he laughed joyfully. Mary soon joined in on the laughter. "My son is there," Edward declared. "My beloved prince."

Mary gazed into Edward's eyes. She pecked his lips. Their heads touched, neither moving their gaze away from the other. "I love you, Edward. Till the day I die."

"I love you too."

#7

February 1571

"The Lady in the Tower," Princess Jane repeated. "So that's what they are calling her now."

"All over Europe," her governess, Lady Stanley, told her. "Some call her the Queen in the Tower, though most call her the Lady."

Mary shook her head as Lady Stanley brushed her long brown hair. "She shouldn't be in the tower at all. She is the Queen."

Lady Stanley tightened her lips. She agreed with the princess of course, but she didn't want to be convicted of treason. "She is nothing but his mistress. His concubine at best," Jane ranted. "How dare she replace my mother? The true Queen of England and an Infanta of Castile and Aragon? When she herself is but a commoner."

"It is inexcusable," the words came out of her lips before Lady Stanley could stop them.

Jane noticed her governess' betrayal of emotions, though she made little of it. "Mary Brydges is a harlot, like her sister. She has no regard for anyone and anything else but herself and her family's ambitions. If she were to be burned I would care so little. I'd only be disappointed that I wasn't the one to set light to the fire."

Lady Stanley tried to stifle a laugh. "Your highness, must you be so ruthless?"

"Indeed, my lady, I must," the princess said. "With that woman at least. She was nothing but the sister of a used royal mistress. She wasn't even a baron's daughter, or even a knight's!" Her father was the seventh son and eighth child of Baron Brydges. Edward was giving him lots of lands and money.

As well as Lady Mary's low status, there was also the fact that she was uneducated and lacked grace. She had only learned embroidery, dance, singing and other womanly skills. Her mother had received one of the best educations given to women in Europe, but yet she was pushed aside and thrown into the tower like some common traitor.

"I agree," Lady Stanley replied. She no longer cared whether she was heard. She was burning with hatred towards that whore. "She is unworthy of being a king's "wife". She is even unworthy of being his majesty's mistress!"

Jane nodded. "I pray that someday she will get what she deserves and more. If only women could be hanged, drawn and quartered, though I would still wish her a worse fate."

Lady Stanley plaited the princess' hair. "I do not think that she will have a son," Jane declared. "My mother always said that God was fair and just, and if He was any way so, he would not grant the harlot a son if he did not my mother."

"I agree fervently with your highness," Lady Stanley said. She tied up the princess' hair at the bottom of her plait. The princess always wore her fair in a plait, in a headdress or lose, though she usually wore it in a simple plait.

Lady Stanley looked around her to see if anyone was in the room. She leaned in and whispered into the princess' ear. "Have you ever thought of poisoning the harlot?"

Jane looked sharply at Lady Stanley, her face twisted in thought. "Yes, my Lady Stanley, I have," she whispered back. "But I would be caught and sentenced to join my mother in the tower."

Lady Stanley nodded in understanding. "Yes, your highness, it would be very dangerous."

"Though," Jane continued, "I would like to see the whore dead, and it would be even more pleasurable if it were I who brought upon her death."

Lady Stanley laughed quietly. "It would be, I imagine."

"I pray I live to witness the day she dies," Jane said. "Whether it be by poison or old age. The mere thought of her death makes me happy. But I pray that it will make her suffer. That it will make her beg for death."

5 March 1571

"Why has he not asked us back to court yet, Bess? Does he still not seem us worthy? When will he invite us back?"

Elizabeth's eyes stayed glued to her book. "Soon, Robin, we must be patient. It does not do one well to upset the king, which we have done."

Elizabeth had learned that from a very young age. It was one of the most important lessons she was ever taught. 'Never anger the king'. Her father had also taught her to never let love consume you. She did love Robin, but it was not everlasting. Love never was.

"What have we done wrong? We love each other, we got married, even though you're far above my class."

Elizabeth shook her head. "We married without his permission, Robin, Edward always wants to be the first to know and to give his approval."

"He has no right to!" Robin insisted.

"He's the bloody king, Robin!" Elizabeth shouted. "He has every right to do whatever he pleases within his realm! He could send us to death tomorrow if it pleased him! It doesn't matter whether it's right or wrong, as long as he's happy with it, it goes without saying. It's how England works."

"Then it ought to change," Robin said.

"Yes, it really should change," Bessie agreed. "Though it's unlikely to during Edward's reign.

"A monarch shouldn't hold that much power."

"But they do," Bessie said. "And there's nothing we can do about it."

Robin started smiling. "Your a real survivor, eh, Bess? You'd do nothing to get yourself in trouble."

Elizabeth smirked, but it soon faltered. "When your father executed two wives and sent one out to rot, you learn a few things."

Robin nodded. Bess' childhood was always a soft topic for her. When her father was alive, she was terrified of him. If he could send her mother to death, then he could do that to her. Bess realised that she didn't care if she would betray her religion or her morals, as long as she survived. If England became Catholic, then she would. Dying a martyr meant little to her. She admired the people who had the bravery to die one and those who were willing to, like Catherine of Aragon, but she didn't aspire to. Life was made for living, not dying!

Robin knelt down and put his hand on his wife's shoulder. "He's gone now, Bess. You don't have to worry about him."

Elizabeth started to tear up. "Sometimes, I get scared by the mere memory of him. And when I look at Edward, I see a mini Henry the Eighth."

"Edward's not like that."

"Oh for God's sake, Robin. He put his wife in the tower!"

"I know, but in all fairness, she was being disobedient," he stated.

"Oh," Bess spat, "so if a wife is disobedient she gets thrown into the tower?"

"No, no, Bess! That's not what I meant!" Robert insisted.

"Well, it sure sounded that way!" Elizabeth retorted.

"I meant that a queen cannot afford to be disobedient," Robert tried to reason.

Bess' features softened. "Yes. And I suppose she should have known that. She should have taken my father's wives for example for what a Tudor man can do," Elizabeth told him sadly. "Especially my mother and Kitty Howard, whose lives, and heads, were cut short."

Robert nodded, glad to be spared his wife's temper. "It is a pity."

"My father was ruthless, and I just pray that Edward is not the same."

7 March 1571

"If the child you bare the king is not a son, you will fall."

Mary held her chin in her hand, her eyes rolling. She knew what would happen if the child was not a son, but it was going to be a boy! Why couldn't anyone see that? She had been a faithful Protestant her whole life. She had been kind to those who deserved it. Why wouldn't God grant her a son?

"I am aware of the dangers," Mary said halfheartedly. "You remind me every day."

"I know, but you must be aware of the possibilities."

"I knew of them when I married Edward, and I know them now," Mary said.

John shook his head. "I'm sorry Mary, I know I'm being annoying, but I care for you. And if you were to fail in giving his majesty his heir, well... I do not know. I just want you to be safe."

Mary smiled warmly. She propped herself up and put her hand on his. "I will be, John, you need not worry."

"But I do worry, Mary. All the time. There is a chance that the child will be a girl, or stillborn-"

"DON'T YOU DARE SPEAK OF SUCH THINGS! THE CHILD WILL BE A BOY!" Mary yelled, feeling the venom pouring out of her with each word. She took a deep breath. Her voice then became much lighter. "And he shall be healthy and the most handsome prince to ever grace the land."

John had been used to his sister's tantrums, rants and outbursts, so he was unaffected. "Or princess," John dared, partially wishing to rile his sister up.

Mary's teeth clenched, she desperately wanted to yell at him, but seeing his mouth twitching upwards made her control her temper. She never succumbed to another's will. "Or princess."

John smirked. "Glad you accept."

"Not really," Mary grinned. "I still think - know - it will be a boy, but I do not wish to argue."

"Sure..." John said.

"It is true, whether or not you believe it is none of my concern," Mary replied.

John shrugged. "I know you doubt it."

"You know very little then," Mary told him. "As I believe the child to be a boy."

"Don't get too riled up. It's not good for the child," John warned.

"I don't need you to boss me around," Mary angrily replied. "I get enough of that from his majesty."

"His majesty is the king and your husband," John reminded her. "He has every right to boss you around, and you are obligated to obey."

"I know!" Mary sighed. "I know! I know! I know! And I don't need reprimanding!"

"It seems you do, Mary," John said. "Remember what happened to your predecessor."

Mary laughed at the thought of that woman locked in the tower, probably praying and badmouthing her to her servants. She cared so little for Isabel. She wished that Edward would have signed Isabel's death warrant the day she went to the tower. But no, he wouldn't. He was too scared. He was scared of the King of Spain!

But the King of Spain was too preoccupied with France to wage war on England. They had been at war for two years. She had heard that Edward had been tempted to forge an alliance with France against Spain. Nothing came of it though. "I'm not as stupid," Mary simply stated.

"Really?" John asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

Mary smiled and hit her brother playfully. "Oh shut up!"

John laughed and rubbed his arm where Mary had hit. "That hurt," he said in mock-hurt.

"Oh I'm sorry," Mary said sarcastically. "My stupidity clouded my judgement."

John chuckled heartily. "Since you weren't thinking straight, I forgive you."

"Like I needed it."

#7#

1 April 1571

Isabel blinked away tears. She got up from where she had been seated and gazed out her prison's window. There were so many people outside, awaiting the execution of her confessor. Her kind and good confessor. Yes, he was a Catholic, yes, he obeyed the Pope instead of the king, but he was a good man nonetheless.

She wondered how long it would be until her execution, or if she would stay in this tower until the end of her days. The thought scared her. Being locked up in this small room was a fate worse than death in Isabel's eyes. She would rather be beheaded like her confessor than be imprisoned.

Her confessor, Sir Henry Johnson, spoke his last words to the crowd. Isabel felt herself tearing up, even though she couldn't hear his words. He was a kind man, and if men as good as him were sentenced to death for such petty things, then she no longer wanted to live in this world.

Henry Johnson blessed himself for the final time. He laid his head on the scaffold. The executioner raised his axe. Isabel turned around swiftly, not wanting to see his death. She bit her lip, trying to keep the tears from flowing.

She dared herself to turn around. She owed it to Sir Johnson, to pay him respect. But would the sight be too much for her? Would she start to cry?

She turned around, no longer caring about how she felt. She approaches the window. John'a head was being held up by the executioner for all to see. Isabel's hand covered her mouth. The executioner then handed his head over to another man, who seemed to laugh. Isabel's face twisted into an ugly scowl.

She had seen enough.

She knelt before the cross and blessed herself. She needed time to think, to speak to God. He was the only One here for her. The only One who truly cared. He would listen to her prayers and help her. He would be her confidant.

"My lady," said a small voice from behind her. "Lord Fitzpatrick is here."

She heard his footsteps and rose. "Lord Fitzpatrick."

"My lady," he greeted, bowing.

"I pray you are well."

"I am," he said.

"Has the Lady Elizabeth and Lord Dudley been summoned back to court yet?" she asked. She had been fond of Elizabeth. She was a very kind woman.

"No, they haven't," Fitzpatrick informed her. "The king is adamant that they do not return before they learn their lesson."

Isabel scoffed. "Sounds like his majesty."

Fitzpatrick nodded. "Indeed," he replied. He tried to find something to say to break the silence that followed. "How have you been?"

Isabel rolled her eyes. "My husband is being lead down the path to hell by the devil himself while I am locked in the tower and tossed aside like some common harlot. Of course I am not well."

"My lady, if someone were to hear-"

"What?" Isabel urged angrily, glad to be allowed to finally release the rage that had burned inside of her for so long. "I'd be executed? I would not care! I would love to be killed! It would free me from my sorrows. My emptiness. You seem to think that death is my greatest fear, when my greatest fear is to live another day, and my greatest desire is to be with my beloved mother. Those who fear death, my lord, fear themselves."

Barnaby shook his head. "Do you not have hope?" he whispered.

"For what?"

"That his majesty will take you back?"

"Of course not. He is too happy with his whore. I pray that he will come to his senses, but it is unrealistic."

Barnaby nodded. "There are many at court who support your majesty, along with those who wish to see you dead."

"No courtesan or queen can ever be free of haters," Isabel said. "Like no king can be fully loved by his nation. Even the kindest of kings could be hated. It is the nature of humanity."

"Of course," Barnaby replied. "I bid you a good day."

He bowed to her, then he left her prison room.

3 April 1571

"What is it?" Mary asked, evidently exhausted. "The child, what is it?"

The midwives looked at each other uncertainly, as if they were doubting whether or not to tell her. Why would they not tell her she had a son? We're they stupid?

"Um, your majesty," said one of the midwives, "you have a daughter."

Mary felt her face redden. Whether it was anger or embarrassment was beyond her. "You idiot girl! I cannot have had a daughter! It is a boy, I know it is a boy! Do not lie!"

"She's not lying, your majesty," another midwife said.

Mary shook her head. "No," she said quietly. "No!" she yelled. "You are all blind! Or you wish to see me fall! Tell me the truth! Tell me I have given birth to a prince! To his majesty's heir!"

Silence followed. Mary sunk into her bed. She was meant to have been cleaned up, but she did not feel up to it.

She was meant to have been a boy for God's sake! She needed a boy, not a measly little girl! A boy would secure her position, a daughter would harm it. Though, even with all her anger, she couldn't help but love the little girl.

Mary started to cry. What would she do? How would the king react to another daughter? Would he be mad? Would he yell? She buried her face in her pillow. She screamed into it. A little bit of frustration and anger vented out of her with each yell.

When she felt partially tame, she turned around and lied on her back. She let her maids tidy her up so that she was ready for her husband.

She held her daughter. She was immensely beautiful, even for a baby, Mary noted. She closed her eyes and awaited her husband's entry. Whether he was kind or cruel was entirely up to fate.

#7#

It had been Isabel there once, Edward thought. She had held their daughter. And now he had cast her away, and it seemed that Mary could do no better than her.

"Husband," Mary said, a proud smile on her face, "come see our daughter."

"You little trollop! You said you could give me a boy."

"And I will!" Mary insisted. " I will! I promise!"

"You and your empty promises. When will the lies stop?"

"They never commenced," Mary told him. "I will bare you a boy. But for now, we have this beautiful princess to dote on."

"Can you ever shut up?" Edward asked rhetorically. "You care about no one and nothing but yourself. I shall have our daughter removed from your influence. She will live in Hunsdon, and you are forbidden from seeing her. You are to stay with me and focus on producing an heir."

John's words echoed in Mary's head. 'You are obligated to obey', he had said. She had always been disobedient. She hated being told what to do and how to do it. "If it pleases your majesty."

Edward gave her a snarl before leaving her room.

Mary felt her cool posture break as she watched him leave. What would happen if she were to fail in giving him an heir? Would he divorce her? Years streamed down her face. She no longer cared about the other women in the room, who were probably sniggering at her. All that she cared about was her future, and what was to happen to her and her daughter.


End file.
